


Damaged Goods

by especiallythezefronposter



Series: Pieces [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is the God of Thunder, Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Natasha is Iron Man, Polyamory, Steve is the Hulk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/especiallythezefronposter/pseuds/especiallythezefronposter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve never learned to ask for more, to take anything but what nobody misses, what people are willing to offer. The monster doesn't get to be picky, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged Goods

**Author's Note:**

> It might be helpful to have a list of which character gets which role, so here it is:  
> Steve Rogers: Hulk  
> Natasha Romanoff: Iron Man  
> Clint Barton: God of Thunder  
> Thor: Captain America  
> Bruce Banner: Black Widow  
> Tony Stark: Hawkeye  
> Maria Hill: Pepper Potts  
> Pepper Potts: Phil Coulson

Steve isn't used to being overwhelmed. He has seen high tech military bases and the slums of every great city in Brazil and the south of Asia, he has watched as his hand turned big and green and crushed a man's arm like a biscuit. There's not much left that can surprise him, let alone make him feel anything strong enough to be heard over the anger, the constant emotional white noise that blocks out everything else.

The thing is that being loud comes naturally to Natasha. 

She says, 'Finally, someone who speaks English.' and he _feels_ it, resonating deep in his chest. How glad he is that someone's listening, actually listening, talking to him like a scientist instead of an explosive. How proud he is when she mentions his work. (No one has talked about his work since before the accident, he notes with another feeling, hurt.) How much he has missed throwing ideas back and forth with someone, how grateful he is to get to do it again.

-

Working with her in the lab, he learns that no one ever taught her silence. She talks when she wants to, doesn't hold back a single word. (He wonders if anyone ever punched her for speaking, ever beat the crap out of her for being young and excited about something. 

_Never_ , he thinks.

Every single time, he thinks.) 

It's comforting that she always speaks her mind, because that means she tells the truth. She's sarcastic, exaggerates, understates, talks in metaphors and pop-culture references, but he picks up on the tones she uses for every one of them. In a half an hour, he has the first layer peeled off. There's more to her than that, but it's a start.

__

-

__

The second layer starts to come off when she kisses him not much later, only touching him where their lips meet, where her fingers press into the back of his shoulder as if she wants him to feel it.

__

His skin is cold where hers isn't covering it (his insides are all heat, her breath filling him like something poisonous), but he doesn't pull her towards him, doesn't even lift his hands to find her hair. He never learned to ask for more, to take anything but what nobody misses, what people are willing to offer. The monster doesn't get to be picky, after all.

__

She leans back, the palm of her hand sliding to his heart. Her voice is soft, the way she looks into his eyes intent. 'Your heart is beating like crazy and there's not even a tinge of green in your eyes.' A corner of her mouth curls upward in amusement. 'You could fuck the life out of us both and the Other Guy still wouldn't come out.' She steps away as if she's a child that lost interest in a toy, her eyes already fixed on the readings that must have shown up while she was playing her little game.

__

That's when he realizes he's still standing against the wall like some helpless freak, a deer caught in the headlights of a car long gone. 

__

That's when he realizes she's peeling away layers, too, must have already pushed past the first few, the easy stuff, and is now finding out what he's really made of. It leaves him feeling a strange kind of cold, opposite to the heat of anger, but just as familiar. It reminds him of hiding under beds and inside closets, trying to be as small as possible, nodding off despite the fear, being shaken awake by big hands that smell of liquor and don't remember gentleness. 'Don't ever do that again,' he bites and he steps away from the wall, finds a monitor to occupy his hands with.

__

She looks serious now, as if she realizes her mistake. 'Only if you give me permission.'

__

-

__

He watches Bruce perform his show for the Trickster, hears him say, 'I've got red on my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out.'

__

He doesn't let the bitter laugh that claws at his throat escape because he learned himself not to, because Natasha is watching him closely and she probably isn't the only one. Still, he thinks, _he gets blood and I get crushed bones, he gets blood and I get shredded skin. He gets blood, but he still gets to wipe it out._

__

-

__

When he spills the great secret, the _You can't kill me. I know, I tried._ (out of anger, yet again, it's always anger that betrays him) the layers fade on Natasha and he can see her, truly, the horror in her eyes when she realizes his fate - having no choice but to live - and he wonders how many times she's wanted to die.

__

Then his eyes snap back to Fury, to the gun his fingers are closing around, and so do hers.

__

She starts talking, fills the room with her presence until they are all suffocating and their eyes meet over the chaos, only for a second, though he knows she still catches the gratitude in his.

__

-

__

It's like she's trying to make him stop her. She asks before she kisses him, now, but never touches him too much, always leaves him a way to escape. She creeps up on him slowly, carefully, takes his hands and puts them against her shoulders as if she wants him to push her away.

__

He doesn't.

__

-

__

She asks him to move in with her, it's the first thing that comes out of her mouth after they've stepped into the car together, driven away from the other Avengers, from the spot where Clint and his brother disappeared into the Bifrost.

__

His answer is barely audible, but she hears it. (As much as she talks, she always listens to him.)

__

'You've been running for too long, and now you can't stop,' she says. There's frustration there, hurt, because Natasha is used to getting what she wants, and now Steve can't give it to her.

__

'I'm sorry,' he says, and he means it.

__

She smiles, but it's bitter. 'You don't owe me anything.'

__

-

__

He's lost track of where he is by the time Natasha calls him. He doesn't know it's her, because there aren't any American numbers in his phone, and he only picks up because he hasn't even been working as a doctor anymore these last few weeks, just survived, went through the motions of being alive without doing much of anything else at all.

__

'Clint's back,' is the first thing she says. 'He was disappointed to hear you aren't here.'

__

Steve doesn't know what to say, so he waits.

__

'I think he likes you. And I know how much you want to check out his radiation signature.'

__

He sighs, takes a deep breath, forces himself to perk up a little, as if he can force away the dread by pretending to be exited. 'You already have a jet waiting for me, don't you?'

__

-

__

Thirty-six hours later he's in the lab with Clint, who seems delighted by everything he does, from taking his blood to typing up a code on one of the monitors. 

__

He talks happily about technology in his Realm, and the effect his powers have on it. He seems somewhat ashamed as he calls himself clumsy and brutish, and looks away when he says that he can't control the electricity contained in his body enough to touch electrical appliances without frying them. It's the first time Steve considers that gods might not be so different from humans at all.

__

'You're really special, Clint', he says, cutting of Clint's words. He wishes someone had taken the time to teach him how to make people see how beautiful they are, wishes he could do better than this.

__

Clint smiles, though, and touches Steve's arm with the kind of gentleness that keeps surprising him, that is so rare he can't even consider getting used to it.

__

-

__

Whenever Clint comes to the lab, Natasha leaves, though Steve can tell from the way she falls asleep in his lap on movie nights and they usually disappear together post-battle that they're close.

__

It's something that keeps confusing him about Natasha, how every S.H.I.E.L.D. file says that she's in a relationship with Maria Hill, how they spend most of their time in the bedroom when Maria comes by the Tower for a day or two, how Natasha sleeps with Clint without Maria minding, sleeps with Steve without caring if anyone finds out.

__

Maybe she thinks that if she fucks enough people, she won't have to love anyone anymore, in the same way she drinks not to feel. He wants to ask her if it works, wants to ask her if maybe he should try it, too.

__

-

__

'Stay,' he tells her the next time Clint is coming to the lab for tests. 'I need your input for the armor modifications.'

__

Later she kisses his neck while Clint's lips are pressing against his shoulder blade. And as his heartbeat speeds up steadily, all he can think is, _the Other Guy doesn't get to ruin this_. All he can think is, _it's been so fucking long_.

__

-

__

Thor and Bruce are chasing a ghost in Russia and Tony is traveling around the world with Agent Potts and a bunch of kids, so Natasha curls up against Steve, and Clint settles to lean against his legs as Steve and Natasha decide on a movie that fits the random criteria Clint comes up with.

__

Later the hero is falling and falling and falling down and Steve remembers the movie he saw in middle school, in which Captain America spiraled towards the sea in a plane that could destroy the world, Tony jumping off a roof and firing a rope arrow at the last second, Bruce letting go of a rod and landing on his feet thirty feet below, agile as a cat, lines from Clint's file, saying he landed on earth in a flash of lightning, Natasha falling through a hole in the sky on a news reel, a man telling him, _you were awake when you fell_.

__

He remembers wondering if they'll keep falling, if they'll keep saving each other, wonders the same thing now.

__

Clint kisses his hipbone and Steve pulls Natasha closer because she isn't looking at the screen anymore, and he understands why.

__

-

__

Later that night, as the three of them lie in bed together, he decides that he's allowed to have this, safety, _love_ , for as long as they're willing to give it to him, decides that he can't be that much of a monster if he loves people, can't be that bad if he protects them.

__


End file.
